Whatever It Takes
by gingerline
Summary: In which Sara hits the bottle one too many times, and Class VII decide to do something about it. - instructor sara-class VII craziness. set mid-CS1.
1. Chapter 1: decisions

**warnings: rated T for alcohol, alcohol abuse/addiction, mild suggestive themes, and (very) mild language.**

 **based off the prompt:** ** _'Class VII all worried about Sara's drinking, and doing crazy things to stop her.'_**

* * *

The original Class VII gathered around their dormitory's common area, early morning light streaming through the curtains.

The older girls sat on one of the long sofas - Emma fidgeting, Laura solemn, and Alisa boring holes into the carpet - and Rean sat rigidly opposite them, brows pinched alongside a quiet Elliot and Gaius. Their quarreling duo leaned against the adjacent walls; the heir of the Albarea household against the bookshelf and the Governor's son against the railings, where Fie was perched, expressionless.

The floor was quiet, full of jumbled thoughts, until a little blue-haired girl - the class' resident terror - stumbled down the stairs. The Ironblood seemed drowsy, almost unaware of herself, as she slid right into the middle of them, plopping sleepily onto the room's coffee table.

The silence lasted less than a minute.

"Ah, that was a good dream..." The girl began, yawning and stretching her arms over her head.

Everyone tensed.

"And... All right _\- good morning, everyone!_ " Millium greeted enthusiastically - and several octaves too loud - suddenly very alert.

Everyone shot her dark looks.

The Ironblood pouted, before looking around, as if just noticing their grim expressions. "Gosh, why the long faces, guys?"

Jusis scoffed, Fie glared, and everyone else was silent.

Rean just sighed. "We're worried about Instructor Sara."

Millium tilted her head, confusion clouding her eyes. "Aw, but you don't have to worry about her! She's only gone for a day or so, and even if it's a top secret dangerous mission... Well, I've seen her fight! She'll be fine."

"I have no doubts about her capability in combat," Laura put forth. She looked stiff - stiffer than usual - arms crossed over themselves. Her eyes flickered down. "I do, however, raise some concerns about her... lifestyle."

There were nods around the table - and, in the case of Jusis, a mildly agreeable look.

"I-It's her choice, of course," Emma followed, wanting to make that clear. "And I'm sure the Instructor has her reasons..."

"But it's killing her."

Emma shot Fie an admonishing look, at being so indelicate about such things. But the jaeger just flipped the knife she was toying with in her hands, looking away. No one could disagree.

"Fie is right. Blunt as always, but right all the same," Machias said, adjusting his glasses. A nervous tick of his. "Am I incorrect in assuming that if she continues down this path, she will be experiencing severe problems?"

"Of course she will. Again with stating the obvious, Regnitz."

"Excuse me, Albarea, but I'm just trying to re-iterate to make the problem more clear-"

"Guys! Please! This is about Instructor Sara!"

They quieted, grumbling.

Rean continued, "Normally, I wouldn't think of it - any more than I do whenever I see her, anyway. Instructor Sara _is_ an adult. But if what Fie showed us is right, then..."

"...then we don't have a choice." Gaius finished. "I agree; we must do something. She's our mentor - in Nord, she would be family."

"I second that," Alisa said immediately, and when everyone looked at her, she flushed and knit her hands together. "She's lazy and irresponsible in more ways than one, I can't deny it, but she's... well - like Gaius said... one of us."

She looked uncomfortable at the admission. But, then, everyone saw her mother.

Millium spoke up again, voice squeaky with confusion, "Whoa, whoa, whoa - you're leaving me way behind! What did Sylphid show you that makes you all frowny-faced?"

Emma sighed, then retrieved a folded piece of copied paper from her satchel. She passed it to Millium, who scanned it immediately, with more proficiency than any thirteen-year-old should possess - almost like she were reading a field report.

The girl gasped. "Holy crap! I dunno what half this stuff means, but that sounds bad!"

"Pretty much."

"I'm afraid so."

"Well, whatever you're doing, I'm in! The Purple Lightning is a real nice lady. Not the drunk failure Gramps says she is at all!"

Rean gave the thirteen-year-old a pat on the shoulder, encouraging her to step off their coffee table-turned-podium. "Er... Thanks, Millium."

Ever conscious of her surroundings, Emma picked up the sheet of paper fallen at Millium's feet, returning it to her satchel.

"I - I just don't know about this, guys," Elliot admitted, hesitant. "Like Emma said, it's not our business. I doubt she'll appreciate us cutting into her life like this at all, and - we don't even know what she's been through!"

"It's true, I don't like this plan," Emma said, sending Elliot a grateful look. Still, her gaze hardened, concern brewing within. "But I can't in good conscience let her go on like this, either."

"We're not going to," Fie said easily - for her, it had already been decided. As the one who had known of the problem the longest, she was almost unnaturally grave. Stoic, but with Fie's steely brand of determination simmering in her green eyes.

There were more nods.

Emma started again, flustered. "B-But still! Remember, everyone - no matter what we do, in the end the only one who can change this is Instructor Sara herself."

Jusis joined in, "Not to mention that we are only her students. Stopping her involves a breach of far more than Academy rules; she could punish us officially, if we're implicated."

"And unofficially, even if we're not..." Alisa added, wincing. They all knew what that meant.

"So you're suggesting we just let her do this to herself?" Machias glared, straight past the girls to Jusis. "Didn't you see the results? Or do you not care-?"

"Neither Emma, Alisa, nor I are saying we shouldn't. She certainly won't stop on her own." Jusis crossed his arms, blue eyes glacier-like. "We are merely pointing out the difficulties."

"They are valid concerns," Laura said, ever diplomatic.

"I suppose..." Machias allowed, and Jusis just huffed, turning away.

"Okay, well, here's my piece." Rean sighed as he stood, looking at the rest of his class. "Elliot's right - we don't know much about Instructor Sara, or what she's been through. Only that a lot of it's harsh... and perhaps far over our heads."

More nods. Rean noticed Fie's eyes go misty, just a tad; perhaps Fie understood most of all, what Sara's kind of life was like.

"But I do know that right now, Instructor Sara... she doesn't have many friends." Rean took in a deep breath, then exhaled. "She's always there to watch our backs, but I get the feeling that... well, there are few people - if any - watching hers."

They all saw how she acted. Noticed how she was silly and fun and outgoing but how something still lingered behind her yellow eyes, like a shadow, glistening beneath the surface. Remembered how Toval just smiled sadly when they asked how Sara was doing, and told them, _"I'm just glad she has all you kids."_

"She does a lot for us," Alisa admitted, looking down. "All the training, and the tutoring... however unhelpful that may be sometimes... And whenever we need her, she finds time for us."

"She does have our best interests in mind," Machias added, a pinched look on his face. "Forcing us to do things that are... ultimately... beneficial, even if we don't realize it."

The Governor's son glanced briefly at Jusis, who also also looked pained as he said, "And only grudgingly admit it."

A silence of agreement fell upon them. Even Millium seemed serious. Laura took a stand across from Rean, arms folded across her chest, looking to Class VII's unspoken leader.

"So we know what we must do."

Everyone locked eyes, and nodded.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Hi everyone! And thank you for reading this far! c: This... Well, you might call it a crackfic taken with some seriousness. Or a little bit of a crackfic, anyway (because, you know, the thought of Sara having a serious alcohol problem is totally ridiculous and out there).**

 **This fic does get silly, though - with lots of TOCS-brand humor and a good dose of fluff. (Because Sara caring about her students like they're hers is cute, and they're all like family, anyway. c:)**

 **There aren't many TOCS fans out there, so if you clicked on this and thought it was even a _teensy_ bit interesting, please tell me if it's worth continuing! Thank you! c:**


	2. Chapter 2: what we must do

**A/N: Btw, this is set sometime in early Chapter 6, CS1 - in the month after the Legram/Garrelia Fortress field study and before Roer. Er... don't ask me why. cx Just fit best that way. Thank you for reading! c:**

* * *

 **Class VII Dormitory, Trista**

"All right, Class VII! Our opponent is Sara Valestein, age twenty-seven - also known as the Purple Lightning."

Rean gestured to the board affixed to the wall of his room, where various pictures of their Instructor covered the space from their time at Thors. They were all taken by different members of their class and at different times, but when everyone looked at them altogether, there were some remarkable similarities...

 _Instructor Sara knocking back beers at the Weathercock Inn._

 _Instructor Sara laughing gaily with drink in hand in a Heimdallr pub._

 _Instructor Sara wasted on the sofa in the first floor of their dormitory, whiskers drawn in purple ink across her face..._

"Okay, not to interrupt or anything, but when did _this_ happen?" Elliot asked, pointing to the orbal-photo at the bottom - the whisker one. "Or do I not want to know?"

Everyone looked at Fie, laying across Rean's desk. Millium sat next to her, feet swinging off to kick the Schwarzer heir's plants.

Noticing the attention, Millium sprung up defensively, pointing to the other girl. "D-Don't look at me! It was _her_ idea!"

"Sara likes cats," Fie said innocently, flicking the blade in her hands. "Besides, they were _Gaius'_ permanent markers."

"Even the Instructor knew I had nothing to do with this."

Elliot scratched the back of his head, sheepish. "I see..."

"Come on, guys!" Millium pleaded, waving her arms. "She was totally wasted! We had to do _something_!"

There was a pointed cough from the back of the group, and everyone turned.

"Elliot, the most important part of this story is not _what_ happened that night," Jusis said as he addressed the musician, a hint of a smirk in his voice, "but what happened _afterwards._ "

Millium squeaked, paling. "She was _so_ mad..."

"Even Airgetlam couldn't save her," Rean recalled.

"Lammy _tried_..."

"As entertaining as this is," Laura interrupted, gathering their attention, "I believe this is beside the point of this meeting."

"Yes..." Alisa agreed, standing to Rean's right with clipboard in hand. "Though there _is_ a relevant take from all this. While Instructor Sara might be lazy and irresponsible... she's also - well - capable of wiping the floor with us without even trying."

Elliot winced. "Ouch."

"So, in other words... This might be a bit more difficult than anticipated," Emma observed, hands folding tightly in her lap.

Elliot face whitened, suddenly remembered how obsessed their Instructor had been in Celdic. "Aidios..."

This wasn't some prank with semi-washable markers. Beer was her life; she was dependent on it. And now...

Realization dawned on everyone, and a quiet fell across the room. Even Jusis seemed to shiver at the prospect.

Sara's ire was a powerful thing.

"But we've faced impossible odds before!" Rean jumped in, encouraging - though even he seemed a little off-balanced at the thought. "This is Instructor Sara's well-being we're talking about. If we all work together, I know we can do this!"

"Where there is a will, there is a way," Laura echoed, determination flinty in her eyes as she leaned against the wall. Now sober, Fie nodded.

"Right..." Alisa finished, but then she shook her head, gripping her clipboard tightly. "Anyway, Rean, you're the one who came up with this. You finish going over it."

Rean nodded, taking the center stage... Or, well, moving one step to the right. Any more and him and Alisa would be touching - with all of them gathered, his tiny dorm room was packed quite full.

"Well, everyone, you all know the basic idea." The Schwarzer heir scratched the back of his head. "For a normal person, we would just reason with them - even try to follow them - but..."

"Sara isn't normal." Fie said. The hypocrite.

Rean winced, nodding, before gesturing to the diagram of the Academy and town beside Sara's profile, with various strikes and circles drawn in red and blue.

"So the only other plan I have is this..."

* * *

 **Kruezan Krayfish, North Kruezan Highway**

"You always have us meet in bars, don't you?"

The clack of titanium boots echoed through the small establishment, cutting through the early morning chatter and drunken mumbling.

"This is a tavern, actually," Sara corrected him as she tipped back her beer, savoring the taste. Celdic variety, hmm. Imported. Strong. "Get it straight, Toval."

His chuckle was rough, good-natured, blending into the clamor of the _Kruezan Krayfish_. "My bad."

The blond bracer slid onto the barstool beside her. He looked weary, as if he'd had a long night, though when Sara knocked one of her glasses towards him, Toval caught it effortlessly. Not that worn, yet.

"Hard week?" Sara asked, not unsympathetic. After the mess at Garrelia Fortress... She felt like she'd been run over by a train herself.

"Are there ever easy ones these days?" Toval replied, taking a measured sip of the drink. The lightweight. The bracer sighed. "But no harder than usual, really. Your kids were a lot of help in Legram. Took some work off my hands."

She felt a swell of pride within her - of course they were good, they were _her_ students - but she swallowed the grin with a swig of her drink and a grumble. "They'd better have been, with all the paperwork I had to do to get them there."

Sara liked being a teacher, most days. It wasn't the same, obviously - though nothing was the same, anymore - but the paperwork was a bitch.

Toval leaned against the bar, the wood creaking as he stared at Sara, cyan eyes studying her. The instructor straightened. "What's with that look?"

"The kids remind me a lot of you. Stubborn, headstrong, sticking their noses into everything..." Sara gave him a dry look. "They'd make good bracers."

"Yeah, yeah, Toval. Save your recruiting for later." she answered, flicking fuchsia-colored locks from her face. Her injured shoulder ached a bit at the movement. "Besides... They've still got a long way to go."

She looked down, thoughts swirling. The disaster at Garrelia reminded her of how young they truly were, how naive to the world's evils and injustices... How it was her job to protect them from that, until the time was right.

Sara shuddered. She liked being a teacher, most days, but the responsibility... It weighed on her, a constant pressure that couldn't be forgotten; a chain that wouldn't let her go, should she forget.

 _Like so many things that never let her go._

Sara took another long drink, feeling the pleasure of it wash through her system, numbing the throb in her shoulder, soothing the aches. She rubbed her temples. "Ugh, I'm exhausted."

"It is only seven in the morning." Toval looked at the glass of mead in his hands, now half empty. "Which brings me to the question... Why are we drinking?"

"Because drinking makes everything better," Sara said seriously. Toval raised an eyebrow. "And because I'm not spending the day doing _your_ bracer work without being at least tipsy."

* * *

Once Rean finished his explanation, everyone nodded.

"So, essentially, we need to eliminate every drop of alcohol in the 40-selge vicinity," Machias summarized, wiping his glasses.

"All of it?" Millium piped in.

"Yes. We can't be too careful," Rean replied. "Our plan relies on cutting off her access. As much as possible, anyway."

"The less that's available to her, the easier this will be," Emma explained sensibly. "So nothing in Trista or the Academy at least."

"Even the stuff in her room?" Millium asked, cocking her head to the side. "I've been inside, and gee-eez, there are a LOT of bottles in there!"

"Mostly empty bottles..." Elliot pointed out, trailing off weakly.

Everyone exchanged nervous looks. Rean swallowed. "Yes. If we're serious about this, then we do need to... Er..."

No one dared venture into their crazily omnipotent Instructor's room.

"I'll do it."

Everyone looked at Fie.

"She likely has her room booby-trapped anyway." Fie said, unfazed, running her fingers over the blade in her hands. "I'm most suited to disarm it."

Right.

"Oka-ay," Alisa said, tapping her clipboard to get everyone's attention. "Anyway, we have no idea when Instructor Sara will be back, and we have a _lot_ of ground to cover, so we need to get moving. Does everyone have their ARCUS?"

There was a chorus of affirmatives.

And one - "Oh, crap! I totally forgot to charge it!"

Alisa slapped her hand against her forehead. "Millium!"

"Can't you do anything correctly, you hyperactive primate?"

"Hey, I usually don't forget! I'm a professional!" The Ironblood blinked. "And Lechter usually reminds me."

Rean quickly interjected, "It's all right, it's not a big deal. Just, er, remember to stay with one of us at all times in case we need you, okay?"

"Okey-dokey!" A thought popped into the girl's mind. "Hey, if we're going all over Trista, maybe Lammy could-"

"NO!"

"Spoilsports," Millium muttered, shaking her arm free. Everyone looked around the crowded room with relief.

"L-Let's just get going, all right?" Alisa handed the stack of papers from her clipboard to Emma, who began passing a sheet to each of them. "Here are all the places we know of that need to be locked down."

Rean added, "But if you think of any others, then please take care of them, too. If the Instructor will be as desperate as I'm imagining... We need to be covered."

"This is a lot of places," Gaius considered. "And the local trading posts? I'm not certain if we can even secure their cooperation..."

"Yeah... I mean, how do we get Kirsche's to stop serving Instructor Sara drinks? She's Fred's best customer!"

"And the faculty lounge? With _Instructor Neithardt_ there?"

"The cafeteria as well. Unless I'm mistaken, a lot of wines are utilized in cooking-"

"Oh! And the church! They give ceremonial-y booze to the Goddess, right?"

Gaius winced. "Yes, Aidios' offerings... But Instructor Sara wouldn't..."

"I admit I am concerned about the Academy-"

The volume increased.

"Isn't there a black market among the students? How will we even-"

"I believe the radio station's director has a stash-"

"What _do_ we do about the nurse's-?"

 **BANG!**

"We do whatever it takes!"

Silence.

Suddenly all eyes were on Rean, standing at the head of the room, Alisa's clipboard slammed against the desk - right next to Fie's face (impassive as always).

"Look, everyone! Instructor Sara's liver is two seconds away from giving out on her!" Rean explained to the nine of them, urgency running tightly beneath his tone. "At this point, it doesn't matter what you have to do - Instructor Sara cannot _at any point_ get within fifty-arge of alcohol! Her life depends on it!"

Everyone froze. They just stared at the Schwarzer heir, panting hard, pale red eyes steely with determination. "So, Class VII, are you with me?"

Though the room was silent, the answer was unanimous.


	3. Chapter 3: whatever it takes - part 1

**A/N: Special thanks to** **Relyt42, Yuuto2, shikyoseinen, and TheCrimsonGhost309 for fav/follow/reviewing! I really appreciate the support - the only reason I got up early to write this chapter was because of you guys. c:**

* * *

 **Kirsche's Cafe & Inn, Trista**

" _Sara Valestein_ wants to quit drinking?"

The two studious members of Class VII stood stiffly in front of the bar, patiently, as they watched the owner of Kirsche's Cafe slowly pick his jaw off the floor.

"T-That's - I mean - well -" The faint-hearted man leaned against the counter, unsure if he heard them correctly. "That's... are you sure?"

"Yes," Machias confirmed, throat dry as he coughed, avoiding Fred's eyes. "Our Instructor has become aware that her... habit... has become an increasing concern for her health."

"And so she needs your help," Emma finished, clutching her satchel a little tighter than necessary.

"Oh. That's - um, good for her. Yeah." Fred blinked, taking it in. "Wait, you said she needs _my_ help?"

Emma and Machias shot each other harried looks, thinking in sync - _Why did everyone think we were the best for this job?_

"She does," the Governor's son said, the lie slipping uncomfortably smoothly from his lips. He adjusted his glasses. "You see, as committed as she is, our Instructor doesn't trust herself to adhere to her strict... detoxification schedule."

Emma smiled, shoulders tense. "In other words, she wanted us to ask you an enormous favor."

* * *

 **Class VII Dormitory, 3rd Floor**

"Is the building clear?" Fie asked without turning her head, standing impassively in front of their Instructor's dorm room. The door was locked tight - with a reinforced adamantine lock - as was the window outside.

The Reinford heiress sighed, coming to a stop before the former jaeger. "Yeah. Sharon's out doing her morning shopping. But you know her - she has a sixth sense for these kinds of things."

Fie nodded. "Then we'll have to be quick."

"Yeah." Alisa's eyes flickered almost anxiously around their floor, then to the shorter girl next to her. "So... about these 'booby-traps'-"

"Don't worry," Fie said, voice clipped. She stared at the wooden barrier, considering. "I've got it taken care of."

"Er, I'm not sure I want to know what that means..."

Ignoring her, Fie approached the wooden door decisively - wide and imposing, with unknown dangers lurking behind it - and flicked something smooth and metallic onto the handle.

"Whoops. Forgot to set the timer."

Alisa blinked. "Uh... Fie? What are you-"

"Oh, well." Without warning, the cat-like girl tackled Alisa from the side, sending them rolling across the ground-

 **BOOM.**

* * *

 **Brandon's General Goods, Trista**

The General Goods' store was peacefully quiet when the four of them filed in. Brandon yawned a greeting from behind the register, still unpacking cans of food from a box at his feet.

"Mornin', Rean, kids. What can I get you?"

"Morning!" Millium brightened, waving excitedly while hanging from Rean's arm - and nearly dragging him into a shelf.

Rean sighed shakily, looking back to see Laura and Jusis lingering stiffly by the exit. Looked like he would have to take the point for this one, too.

"Nothing right now, but we _were_ wondering if you could help us," Rean replied, scratching his neck. "It's about our Instructor..."

* * *

 **Outside Central Park, Trista**

Elliot and Gaius lingered on the street, staring in the direction their friends had set off.

"I hope it goes well," Elliot said, brushing bits of dust from his blazer, a little anxious. It was early, and Trista was all but empty, but the musician's spine still tingled... almost as if they were being watched. "I-I'm sure Emma and Machias will be fine, but the others..."

Gaius winced, remembering the way Millium enthusiastically dragged their three classmates across the sidewalk. "May the winds be with them."

"Well, since Alisa decided to stay behind with Fie, I guess that leaves us." Elliot folded the sheet in his hands, tucking it just inside his pocket. "We should try our best."

Gaius nodded. "We must not let Instructor Sara down."

"Right," Elliot said, and was about to suggest they head to the Academy when - all of a sudden - a pretty black feline was sitting in front of him.

The musician started, nearly tripping as he came to a hasty stop. The cat blinked at him, unfazed.

"O-Oh, hello there."

"Mrreow."

In one movement, the cat leaped onto one of the Cafe's tables at their left, settling onto the edge. Now closer to eye-level, the feline turned to them intently. She seemed to be... studying them?

Stilling beside Elliot, Gaius held his hand out in greeting. "So we meet again, little one."

"You know this cat?" the musician asked, as the feline acknowledged Gaius with a brief lick.

"Yes. I see her often on my way to church," the Nordian explained, and abruptly the cat's lime green eyes narrowed at the words, hissing. She flicked her tail in annoyance, and Gaius respectfully straightened, a smile touching his lips. "She's a beautiful creature, but a little fickle at times."

"I can see that..." Elliot said, a bit nervously. The cat's eyes were lime green and piercing. "Er, anyways... We should probably get going."

"Yes," Gaius agreed, and then, turning to the feline, "Please excuse us. There are some important matters we need to take care of."

The cat tilted her head with almost human awareness, as if in question. Her lime eyes gleamed.

As Elliot turned toward the school, shivering at the cat's gaze against his back, a store-bell chimed from the shop ahead of them.

"Hey, isn't that Instructor Thomas?"

* * *

"Sorry, kids. I'd love to help you, but I'm afraid that's bad business."

Brandon looked somewhat apologetic, but wasn't a bit swayed by Rean's words. The Schwarzer heir had assumed honesty was the best policy in this situation, but at the moment, Brandon didn't seem inclined to help them at all.

Rean was at a loss. "I know it sounds... extreme-"

"Besides, if you're worried about her, why don't you just talk to her? She's your instructor, right?"

Laura, Rean, and Millium looked at the man like he had grown a second head. Jusis just rubbed his temples.

Rean laughed weakly. "You must not know her very well."

There was a scoff from the back. "As if that alcoholic would listen to reason. She's as thick-headed as Regnitz."

"Yeah..." Millium tilted her head back, as if envisioning it. She paled. "Nope, not gonna happen!"

"You will not make an exception?" came Laura's voice. The tall girl stepped forward, arms crossed over her blazer. Her frown was deep. "Is is for her well-being."

Brandon shook his head. "It's against policy, I'm sorry. I can't just refuse service."

 _Especially not when Sara is his best customer,_ Rean was certain.

All eyes darted to the liquor shelf against the wall, which was completely cleaned out.

"Are you sure?" the Schwarzer heir asked, a tad hopefully."This is the only way we-"

"Ahem." Jusis walked up beside Rean, silencing him with a gesture as his blue eyes locked with Brandon's. "I understand your reservations. However, we _are_ intending to compensate you for the loss of your sales."

"Of course," Laura said, feeling embarrassed for not bringing it up before. This was this man's livelihood, after all. "If you allow us to see our Instructor's monthly purchase records, we would be happy to."

The records must have amounted to a lot, because Brandon seemed considering for a moment, before his expression turned pained.

"I'm not taking that much from students, all right?" The man muttered something like _"_ _Tyzel would kill me."_

"You have a moral issue with accepting money from us?" Jusis said, placing a hand below his chin.

"We're not just students, though!" It occurred to Millium. She pointed to the others. "These three are nobles - they're practically rolling in it! And I'm special, too - I'm in the Imperial Army! Sort of."

Brandon looked at the thirteen-year-old dubiously, but then just planted his arms on the counter.

"Kids, I said no." Brandon said firmly, gaze hardening. "Now, if there's nothing else, it's Tyzel's sleepover night, so I need to finish this..."

It didn't seem like anything was going to convince him.

The four glanced at each other, worry bleeding from Rean and Laura's expression like stone. Even Jusis seemed close to glaring. The Schwarzer heir sighed in defeat. "Well..."

"Whoa, whoa - we're not leaving, are we?" Rean looked at Millium, conflicted. "I thought we had to complete this mission no matter what?"

"We do, but..." The Schwarzer heir looked helplessly at the owner, who had gone back to shelving goods.

"And you guys think you're cut out for military stuff," Millium said, huffing. "All right, everyone! Leave this to me!"

* * *

The dust swirled around the top floor of the dormitory, leaving Fie and Alisa coughing in tangled heap outside Millium's room.

The Reinford heiress wheezed, waving debris from her eyes, squinting to see the remaining - and very, very charred - half of Sara's door.

"A-Aidios..." Alisa sputtered, "Fie, are you insane?!"

The cat-like girl in question picked herself up smoothly, brushing off her skirt.

"Don't be so dramatic." Fie calmly approached the blown doorway, pushing the half-door inwards with one hand. It creaked open. "It was just a targeted explosion."

"You... How irresponsible... You could have set the building on fire-" Fie rolled her eyes, which had Alisa stomping over to remind her, eyes blazing, "And we were supposed to be _subtle_!"

The former jaeger stepped into the dimness of their Instructor's room, nonplussed, leaving Alisa to glare helplessly at her back.

"'Subtle'?" Fie said as she flipped the light switch, "You think she won't notice anyway - when all _that's_ suddenly gone?"

Alisa peered into the room, and sucked in a surprised breath.

She was sort of expecting it, but...

There were bottles everywhere. And when she said everywhere, she meant _everywhere_. Lining the shelves, scattered in countless shapes and sizes atop the counters, littered across the floor... Stacked in crates across the wall. Aidios! Either their ever-so-responsible Instructor stored her lifetime's supply in here, or...

"It's gotten worse," Fie noted, solemn. She strode across the room, effortlessly stepping around the scattering of hollowed glass. The girl had clearly been there before.

"And I thought Grandfather drank a lot," Alisa observed shakily, toeing a empty glass jug on the birch floor. "She drank _all_ of this?"

"No doubt," Fie said, distracted, scanning the crowded shelves.

"Beer, hard cider, brandy... More beer," Alisa listed off as she cautiously rounded the space, eyeing the crates. It was a bit intimidating. "No wonder you were worried. Does this woman own anything else?"

Fie didn't respond, coming to a stop before Sara's desk. Her jade eyes darted to a tiny pot of crimson flowers, sitting precariously atop mountains of paperwork - the only speck of color in her entire room. The girl's breathing hitched.

"I was kidding, but is any of this stuff actually hers-" Alisa froze, noticing an empty beer glass that sat on the counter, propping up a thin picture frame. "Oh."

It was a photo of them - of Class VII, and Sara - with **_First drink with the kids_** written in their Instructor's scribble in the corner.

Fie and Alisa stood there in silence.

Their Instructor's room was clearly that of an alcoholic. Empty bottles, crates full of drink, her space looking little more than a store-room; impersonal for all but a few knick-knacks.

It should have made them feel urgent - determined to carry every drop of alcohol away - but instead it just made them... strangely sad.

They'd joked about it, certainly, but... It really did seem that it was all she had left.

"Maybe..." Alisa shivered, still staring at the lone picture. "Maybe we _should_ just... you know, talk to her."

Fie hesitated, but then waved her hand, dismissive. "We would just lose the element of surprise."

"So we go straight to the breaking and entering. Figures," Alisa groused, but after a few moments, rubbing her ruby eyes, she just deflated. "...I know it's a long-shot, but maybe if we just, you know, told her how we feel... the Instructor might listen."

Alisa wasn't the best at this... communicating thing. Her and her mother were a prime example. But maybe...

Fie's misty green eyes flickered to meet Alisa's. "For it to get this bad... Sara's no fool. She knows the signs; she just chooses to ignore them."

Alisa blinked, heart clenching. "But why?"

Fie didn't have an answer. The former jaeger just shook her head, sliding her arms around the nearest crate - a jingling assortment of vodka - silver locks falling over her eyes.

"We better get going," Fie said, unaffected by the crate - almost half her size - that towered over her face.

Alisa nodded jerkily, but when she moved to help the other girl, she couldn't help but stop, taking in the chaos of Sara's quarters - reminded of professional steel doors and black marble walls and tall, imposing rises; of rooms a reflection of their owner.

Fie paused, peering back at Alisa. "What's up?"

"Nothing, it's just... taking beer away from Instructor Sara seems strangely like taking work away from my mother."

They're both destroying the women, piece by piece, but it's something they can't seem to function without - as if there's a void in their lives that it fills, just keeping them together.

"Death by alcohol, death by work," Fie considered, squinting. "I kinda see it."

Alisa sighed. "You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"No, the Chairman and Sara are a bit similar, in some ways." Fie tilted her head, considering. "They're both old, for one, but with bodies like that -"

"Ugh, Fie! Of _all_ the - that's my _mother_!"

* * *

"All right, you heard the man, mister. We're not leaving this store until we get what we want."

Rean turned to Millium, startled. Jusis and Laura's gazes sharpened.

"Excuse me?" Brandon said, before running his fingers through his hair. Several piles of goods lay in unorganized stacks beside him. "Okay, guys, I really don't have time for this."

"You have two choices," Millium continued, ignoring the way the owner sighed in irritation as she stood right against the counter, hands on her hips. "You can do what my friends asked, and make me happy, or..."

Airgetlam materialized behind her, looming and inhuman.

 **CRASH.**

With the flick of its wrist, the silver construct slammed a metallic fist against the floor, smashing a hole through the wood, splinters flying into the walls.

"...You can take it up with Lammy."

Brandon's legs nearly gave out beneath him.

Rean sucked in a sharp breath, watching the store owner's face whiten to chalk.

Jusis only stared at destroyed floorboards, something akin to respect shining in his eyes. "If I were you, I would take the first option."

Brandon swallowed, nodding.

* * *

After Emma finished, with helpful input from Machias, a dazed Fred nodded in understanding.

"So Sara never wants me to sell her any drinks," the cafe owner repeated. "No matter what she threatens, does, or says otherwise. Even if she tells me that she never sent you two in the first place - something she might do out of desperation - she wants me to never give any to her."

"T-That's right," Emma said, resisting a guilty flush. "She's, um, deathly afraid of relapse. You understand, don't you?"

The orange-haired man scratched the back of his head, looking a bit overwhelmed. "I get it, only... You said she might be really insistent. I mean, if she asks for it... She's, well, a customer..."

It was clear Sara was a good - perhaps his _favorite -_ customer, given the tint to his cheeks. Emma and Machias swallowed a sigh - their Instructor really shouldn't flirt with the bartenders, especially while completely plastered.

"You must not give it to her," Machias insisted, feeling a headache coming on. "It is vital for her - ahem, successful recovery."

Fred nodded - once again - in understanding, but he still seemed uncertain, as his gaze flitted between the two of them. That wouldn't do.

The witch coughed pointedly into her hand.

"Our Instructor trusts you a great deal with this," Emma reminded him, forcing a small smile. The bartender looked to her, startled. "It's very important to her."

The man flushed deeply, but when Fred gripped his washcloth and nodded, it was with great seriousness - as if he were entrusted with a sacred task.

Dolly eyed them critically on their way out, but neither Machias nor Emma looked back.

* * *

It was with herculean effort that Alisa and Fie hauled case after crate down three flights of stairs.

Well, at least it was for some people. Fie hardly seemed fazed by the work, leaping from floor to floor and down again, effortlessly - convincing Alisa she wasn't human - while the Reinford heiress' back ached with the strain. Though the burning only started to get really bad after the, oh... fortieth case?

"I'm surprised she isn't dead," Alisa grumbled, face flushed with exertion. The crate of beer towered over her head as she inched down the stairs. How much alcohol did one woman need, anyway?

She was about to suggest Fie should just ignite it all and be done with it when behind her, the former-jaeger's footsteps ceased.

"What?" Alisa blew sweaty hairs from her forehead. Was Fie _finally_ tiring like a normal -

"May I help you with that, Lady Alisa?"

Alisa shrieked, the case nearly slipping from her fingers. The next thing the Reinford heiress knew the former jaeger was in front of her, gunswords drawn -

\- before seeing Sharon - eyes bright, smile wide - at the base of the stairs.

"S-Sharon!" The case did slip from Alisa's fingers then, tumbling with a loud rattle onto the ground floor. Sharon sidestepped it with ease. "Don't - don't do that!"

"You're good," Fie admitted, form relaxing. The cat-like girl sheathed her weapons.

The Reinford maid just smiled sweetly.

"Ugh, I nearly dropped all this on myself -" Alisa blinked, looking down at the crate of alcohol - strictly forbidden on campus, student property, and in the possession of minors - and the tower of identical ones stacked beside the sofas.

"Er - w-whatever you're thinking, it was all Rean's idea, I swear!"

Fie whistled innocently, looking away.

"Now, milady," Sharon began as always - and of course _Sharon_ knew everything _-_ eyes twinkling. "I understand Master Rean is very... _special_ to you. Nevertheless, you musn't let his charms lead you astray like this. What would Madam Chairman say?"

Alisa gaped.

"Whoa, whoa - no! It's not - this isn't...! It's the Instructor's! We're just..." the Reinford heiress stammered, "Um, we're just helping her - er, clean out her room."

Sharon said nothing, and Fie just glanced at Alisa, unimpressed.

The girl sighed. Well, it _was_ true... In a way.

"Oh, fine..." Alisa glared at the maid. "Nothing gets past you, does it? How long have you been listening?"

"I'm not certain what you're referring to, Lady Alisa," Sharon said quizzically, staring at them with that infuriatingly innocent smile, "I just came in a few minutes ago."

"Oh, sure you did..."

"Regardless," Sharon said, smirk smoothing into a polite smile once again, "Just try not to overexert yourself, milady."

The maid took a handkerchief and gently began to wipe the dampness from Alisa's forehead.

"Sharon, don't - wait," Alisa said, blinking, even as she cringed away from the maid's doting hands, "Wait, so - you won't stop us?"

"Of course not, milady," Sharon replied, before leaning in closer to her charge, "And if we keep this between ourselves... I've already disposed of all of our cooking wines and accompaniments."

Sharon's smile was a little _too_ sweet - a kind of malicious joy lurking behind it - but Alisa just sighed, ignoring the way pain pounded in her temples. As always.

* * *

"Sooooooo... How did I do? I totally took care of it, didn't I?"

"You were... acceptable," Jusis said grudgingly, shoving the girl off his arm as they walked out of _Brandon's General Goods_. "I suppose even overactive brutes serve a purpose, at times."

"Thanks!"

Rean sighed, trailing behind the group, chest feeling uncomfortably tight. Laura walked just ahead of him.

"You're okay with this?" Rean asked, addressing the swordswoman. Of all of them, the Arseid had the strongest principles. Surely she would understand.

The girl slowed her pace to match his. Her expression was thoughtful.

"No... I am not," Laura answered after a few moments. "It is unbecoming for those with strength to use it against those without... _However,_ for this - for our Instructor - I must make an exception. Not to say Millium shouldn't have consulted us first."

Rean followed her gaze to the Ironblood. "I can't argue with you, exactly..."

Millium strut enthusiastically along the sidewalk, like any other thirteen year old girl - as if two minutes ago she hadn't been threatening to bash Brandon's brains across the wall.

Rean winced at the thought. "Where did you learn to do that, Millium?"

The girl spun around to face the Schwarzer heir.

"Oh, you mean with the store-guy? That's what Lechter said to do when people didn't do what I told them to," Millium explained easily. "Sure, Claire gets mad at me for it, but she does it all the time too! I've seen her!"

"Er..." The day he first met Claire - that evening in the Lunaria Nature Park - came to mind. "But Captain Claire is the head of the RMP; she threatens to arrest people. You... Er, you just threatened to beat someone up."

And that was putting it mildly.

Millium cocked her head, "There's a difference?"

"I lose more faith in this country's Imperial military by the day," Jusis said, shaking his head, engaging the girl once again in heated discussion-slash-argument, while Rean fell silent.

His chest felt tight, and the look on Brandon's face would be burned into his mind forever, but... in the end... they accomplished what they set out to do. And when it came to their Instructor's life, weren't they willing to do it - to do whatever needed to be done?

* * *

 **A/N: This is my first time writing humor, so if things fell a bit flat I apologize. cx Anyway, thank you all for reading, and please let me know what you think! Even a little feedback goes a long way!**


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